


Best Men

by PhantomWriter



Series: It's a weird start (but we'll be fine) [11]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Background Relationships, Falling In Love, M/M, Single Character POV, Weddings, drunk Oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: Oliver and Barry first met as the best men of two weddings in twin chapels.





	Best Men

**Author's Note:**

> another Olivarry AU. huehue

They first met on the day of Diggle and Lyla's wedding.

The guests were waiting for the pastor to arrive and start the ceremony, which was already past the scheduled time. As for the couple, they didn’t seem to mind the delay, and breaking known superstitions out there regarding the groom and the bride not to meet before the actual wedding. And it wasn’t as if those who attended were not preoccupied with the plus ones they brought along, since most of them have one.

The people invited were within the couple’s close social circle, which meant there weren’t plenty, mostly co-workers who were also friends and some of family that you could count the pairs, and that if you were a lone attendee you would stood out.

Like Oliver.

Not that he was alone per se. He came with Thea, but then again Thea has Roy so technically, he was a third wheel or something now that he thought about it. Though you don’t label Oliver Queen a _third wheel_ , especially if he could put arrows on you in a heartbeat and he was the best man of the groom.

Just, no.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he minded being single; he would always thought it was for the best—not involving himself too much on someone therefore avoiding risks that came with being the vigilante. Though it didn’t numb him either of his previous relationships that he had to let go.

Years before, he used to think it would be Laurel, the one he would marry one day. And then the island happened and that list of people to be brought down. He entered a series of relationships, although not as worse back then on his playboy years; some casual and some serious enough to be taken to the next level but in the end falling out.

With only a few seats in between was his latest ex and with her new boyfriend. Felicity was the closest to marriage that he could imagine a family life with her, but it also went awry after he decided to be part of William’s life. He has no regrets on what he did though, but he sometimes thought maybe it could have gone a better way where all parties were happy.

Looking at her, satisfied and very much in love with Ray, Oliver would ask for nothing else. Ray was a decent man who could make her laugh on silly jokes and lame puns, plus they both seemed to hit it off since day one, being equally brilliant minds and all that. She was finally happy and that made him happy for her too, as her close friend and teammate.

It was almost an hour and the pastor was yet to come. Oliver excused himself to Diggle and Lyla for a brief breath of fresh air. He guessed he could also phone the pastor as he was the one who recommended him.

He was leaning outside the chapel wall, scrolling his phone for the pastor’s contact number when a man was running up the set of stairs as if being chased. Oliver watched him ran to the entrance of the twin chapel situated beside where Diggle and Lyla’s wedding would be. The unknown man sighed in relief as he peeked inside. Clearly, the neighboring ceremony hasn’t begun yet.

It was a wonder why Oliver didn’t turn away right then. The other man sheepishly looked at him when he caught Oliver’s eyes, embarrassment coloring his face.

“Running late?” Oliver said suddenly, surprising the man. Heck, even he was surprised by himself. The damage has been done when the stranger laughed nervously.

“Uh, yeah. I kinda overslept.” He gestured vaguely at the other chapel. “Got lucky it hasn’t started yet.”

“Same as ours.” Oliver regarded him carefully, taking note of the white coat and bowtie that complimented his own attire of black coat. “Best man?”

It was a wild guess but when he received a smile, he confirmed he guessed it right. “Yeah. The groom is a close of friend of mine since high school.” He raised an eyebrow to Oliver. “You too, huh?”

Oliver nodded. “For a co-worker who’s a good friend.” He pocketed his hands, for some reason not wanting the conversation to end. “First time being a best man?”

“Did me being late gave it away?” the other best man asked in return, looking amused. “Well, yes. Though to be fair, I’m late at almost anything,” he admitted, mumbling a few words under his breath.

Oliver’s lips twitched. “I hope you wouldn’t be when it’s your time.” He looked younger than him, and didn’t seem to be wearing a gold band. He could be wrong though.

“Not planning to. But that is if I got lucky on that department.” The man’s eyes crinkled on the edges, green irises twinkling as he grinned.

Oliver felt odd that he found it cute.

He didn’t answer, finding himself studying this man standing in front of him. They were on the same height, albeit the other was leaner than him. Not that he looked gangly under his attire. It suited him that he didn’t have to put much effort in grooming himself. Must be the reason he didn’t put up much effort to waking early. He looked good without trying.

It was ridiculous really, that he seemed drawn immediately to an unknown person he met only some minutes ago. He begrudgingly admitted in his mind being guilty in checking the man out too. Initially, his response to stranger was distrust, though it wasn’t the case for this man that he even started a casual conversation with him, completely forgetting that he was supposed to call the pastor.

The _fresh_ _air_ he deemed to take must be affecting him badly.

He barely registered Thea's voice asking for him to return inside since Ray offered to preside on the ceremony instead, as he was _qualified_ for it.

He already missed that much.

“I think ours will begin shortly too,” the unknown man said.

“I suppose I’ll get back in.” Oliver gave him a nod. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” The other smiled. “See you soon.”

 

 

 _Soon_ happened more than an hour later.

When they saw each other again, it was by the end of Diggle and Lyla’s wedding that ended the same time with the wedding on the other chapel.

Oliver got a slight wave of the hand from the man from earlier when he saw him together with the other bunch of people taking pictures after the ceremony right outside the chapels.

Tentatively, Oliver returned the gesture, and then received a wide smile back for the courtesy. He somewhat regretted that he wasn’t closer in distance to see him clearly.

When they drove to the reception, it was only then that Oliver remembered he hasn’t gotten the man’s name.

* * *

He was surprised when Ray approached him and asked him to be his best man.

The wedding, that he could see coming. It was only a matter of time for the two anyway. But him being asked to be the best man—no. Not in a million years.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think Ray was asking him to spite. But he did know better. He prided himself as a good judge of character that he was confident Ray wasn’t that kind of person. The man was generally kind, like the type you bring home and introduce to your parents. And he didn’t have shady night activities being the Green Arrow.

He decided it was probably because of Felicity. He did become one of her close friends before and after their romantic relationship. She still looked up to him as the team’s leader; that he knew.

Oliver agreed.

It would be like a torment—watching her walking down the aisle towards the altar where Oliver would stand. But she wouldn’t go to his direction, and instead to the other person beside him. He would have to be contented watching her from the sidelines and admire how beautiful she was on her most special day.

No matter. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his share of blows emotionally.

This would be just an addition to his ever growing list.

* * *

The ceremony was to be held in a chapel in Central City. Funny thing was, it also has a twin not far to its left.

His mind took him back to some months ago when he met the stranger, the one he didn’t manage to get the name of. He remembered him on occasion, usually when his mind was drifting away that he was sure he could recognize him if he ever meet him again.

Which was possibly next to impossible to happen.

And it wasn’t as if he could find him by descriptions of adorable green eyes and chestnut hair and endearing grin. Oh, and not to mention the freckles that dotted the man’s face, and his self-acclaimed penchant for being late.

Unfortunately, life wasn’t a chick flick where fate would take pity on him today and would place the unknown man (whom he was mildly crushing on) on his path for the second time.

Or so he thought.

“Um, Mr. Queen?”

Oliver turned to the source of the unsure voice that sounded vaguely familiar. When he saw who it was, it was as if on a movie where an unexpected major thing happened to the main character.

Standing there was the very same person who was a running late best man to a wedding when they first met each other.

“You...” Oliver began ungracefully. _Smooth, very smooth_. He cleared his throat. “You know me?”

“Uh, yeah. You probably don’t remember me but we met before,” the man said.

Oliver pursed his lips. He didn’t mean to sound that way. “I don’t think I could forget somebody late on a wedding where he was the best man.”

The man looked relieved, chuckling softly. “How’s that for first impression?”

“I’d say it’s effective,” Oliver told him. He tilted his head. “You mentioned my name. How did you know?”

“It turns out my best friend is updated about you. That’s why it seems as if I’ve seen you before but I just can’t put a name on the face.”

That explained it. Though Oliver wasn’t aware he was known outside Star City. “To be honest, I’d rather put a name on the face too.”

The man seemed as if caught red-handed, bashfully looking down. “Oh, God. Where are my manners?” He extended a hand. “I’m Barry. Barry Allen.”

“Nice to meet you, Barry.” _Finally._ Oliver offered a small apology-accepted smile. “Oliver Queen.”

“Well, this is certainly a coincidence,” Barry mused. “Two separate weddings on twin chapels. We only both have to be best men too to complete the set.”

Oliver wasn’t sure whether to take that as a joke. “I _am_ the best man, actually.”

“Wait. Seriously?” Barry grinned the way Oliver remembered. “Me too.”

“For another high school friend?”

“The bride is my best friend, the one I’m telling you about. She’s my foster sister too,” Barry said. “The groom became a close friend of mine as well since we’re also co-workers.”

Something dimmed on Barry’s expression, barely noticeable that Oliver almost missed the faltering smile. There clearly was a story there that the other would rather not delve into.

Oliver changed the topic. “I’m also close friends with the bride. We work together with the groom from last time.” He was close to admitting she was also a former girlfriend.

Barry blinked. “Must be the wedding year in your workplace.”

“If it’s the case then I’ll be missing it.”

“Not planning to settle down yet,” he stated, nodding in understanding. Oliver hoped Barry wasn’t attributing the reason to his former playboy status.

“More like I no longer have the chance to,” Oliver said. He absentmindedly glanced back to the chapel, a thoughtful look on his face. “She’s taken.”

Following his gaze, Barry appeared to have pieced together the truth. “I see.” He threw him a sympathetic smile. “Makes the two of us.”

It didn’t register to Oliver that he revealed a private feeling to somebody he hardly knew. In a way, it felt lighter to admit to spill some of the thoughts he kept to himself.

Barry sighed. “Scratch this. We should be supportive of the grooms.” He smiled wryly to the older man. “We can be miserable together later. That is if you’re still in town?”

Oliver wasn’t expecting the invitation to a bar he was given the name of. He was planning to go back to Star City in the late afternoon and continue his vigilante night patrols.

But maybe he could be selfish and irresponsible for just tonight. There was something at the back of his mind that told him Barry wouldn’t be a bad company either.

“You have a companion at 8 PM then.”

 

 

At the picture taking after the ceremony, Oliver caught Barry subtly trying to get his attention from a few meters away, the wedding on the other chapel finishing a little later than the Palmer-Smoak wedding.

The younger man pointed to his own corners of the lips and lifting them up. Oliver supposed he was looking constipated that Barry was coaching him to smile.

Oliver flashed him a sample of his fake smile he usually reserved for showbiz cameras.

When the former shot him two thumbs up in return, satisfied with the forced-slash-fake simper, Oliver couldn’t help but quirk his lips in amusement, face morphing into a genuine expression.

The camera caught him with eyes turned from the direction of the lens, looking fondly somewhere.

* * *

Oliver thought he met a match when it comes to alcohol tolerance.

He was wrong.

If anything, Barry had beaten him to it.

He was pretty confident with his tolerance, with his earlier reckless years since teenager, and then there was his fondness for strong Russian vodka.

But while his head was already buzzing at the amount he took, and judging by the number of bottles he had already finished with Barry, it was much more than he usually partake in, and the latter was yet to have his cheeks colored with even a tinge of pink.

Oliver didn’t know whether he was drunk enough to recognize Barry’s way of downing the shots as if water and was completely unaffected.

He tried to call him out regarding it, slurring a bit. All he got was a laugh threatening to spill and a shrug with the brief explanation of _fast metabolism_.

“Is that some kind of metahuman ability?” Oliver’s dizzy mind supplied. “You have those here at Central City, right?” He was past caring if he sounded stupid.

It seemed that he wasn’t, especially when Barry visibly tensed, eyes widening a fraction. Fortunately for him, Oliver’s befuddled brain dismissed it as—nothing, really. He just thought Barry looked cuter when shocked.

Barry sighed. “Alright, I think you’ve had enough.”

Oliver merely grunted.

He was assisted by Barry when they walk out of the bar. It has been a while since he lost his composure like this that Barry was the first to see him this way. Even his teammates were never been privy to the sight.

He must be a wreck.

“I’ll get you a cab,” Barry told him gently. “Where are you staying?”

Oliver managed to tell him that he wasn’t staying anywhere, driving his motorcycle when he went to the bar. Barry would have none of that, asking if there was any family driver that could fetch him. The night was late but he didn’t want to bother Diggle.

Barry looked thoughtful for a moment before quietly considering something with finality. “Give me your address,” he asked firmly that didn’t leave room for any suspicions.

Oliver must have complied without a word when air was knocked out of him with the sudden whip of wind.

He would bet his whole inheritance that he would have the hangover of the lifetime tomorrow morning.  

* * *

The first thing he realized when he woke up was he trusted somebody with an address; Thea’s when he recognized the guest room he was in.

Next thing was that as if somebody was picking on his skull and cracking it open.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Thea called from the doorway, sipping on her cup. “Look who celebrated last night more than the newlyweds.”   

She wasn’t even speaking loud but her voice sent tremors to his head. He was wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the pain at least. It wasn’t even helping. Thea went on about last night’s events that he hardly remembered, how he was sent home, passed out and slumped against a younger man who was on the thin side to even hold him up in front of the door that she had his and Roy’s help to put her older brother properly on the spare room. She added that Oliver could have called to pick him up and not bother somebody from Central to bring his drunken ass to Star which was 600 miles away, and then the poor guy had to go back _another_ 600 miles to get home.

He felt more terrible now that he found out. “He brought me here?”

Thea rolled her eyes. “That’s what I’ve been saying.” She reached for her pocket and tossing the small plastic to him. “He also left these for you. For the headache, he said.”

There were three medicine tablets that looked generic aspirins. She assured him that those were over-the-counter drugs and effective for hangovers when partnered with strong coffee.

They did wonders as he was back to his form by the afternoon and resuming his vigilante duties. It was only him and Diggle and Roy at the Foundry, with Felicity currently in her honeymoon. It was for the best, he supposed. He’d rather not be reminded of how he got wasted the previous night.

And apparently, troubled Barry too.

 

 

The least he could do was put an effort on how to contact Barry. And since Felicity had simplified the way of tracking someone, it took only an hour to pull up the files related to the Allens. They were not many at Central City. Top results showed Nora and Henry Allen, two names commonly searched in the internet news. Oliver was presented with handful of articles from a mere google search alone about a homicide case more than a decade ago—Henry Allen, a doctor serving life sentence at Iron Heights for the murder of his wife, Nora Allen. They have a son named Bartholomew Allen who was left into custody of a foster family. By estimation, Bartholomew would be on his late 20s in the current year, around Barry’s age.

Searching for Bartholomew Allen, he got basic information and an identification photo. He confirmed that it was Barry, the very same person who helped him home. He was working as CCPD’s CSI listed under his occupation. Oliver closed the database record after getting his personal number, not wanting to pry any further (as much as he wanted to) without particular reason in respect to Barry’s privacy.

He immediately dialed him and connected at first two rings.

_“Hello?”_

“Barry. It’s me, Oliver.”

There was a long pause from the other line. _“Mr. Queen?”_

“Oliver, please,” he said. “I think we should be passed the last names after you helped me last night.”

He heard Barry chuckling lowly. _“You’re right. So how are you?”_   

“Fine. The medicine worked. I’m good as new.”

The other man hummed. _“I was actually talking about, you know, wedding and all that. But it’s nice to know too you no longer have the hangover.”_

“I’ll be alright,” he replied earnestly. As much as the consequences were undesirable, the drinking did help, or it did because he had pleasant company with him. “You?”

 _“Just like you, I’ll be fine.”_ There was a beeping sound that sounded. _“Sorry to cut it short but I’m being called for something urgent. I can get back to you later afterwards though.”_

“No need.” Oliver quickly amended, “But I’m thinking of inviting you for coffee this weekend, on your own time.”

There was a hint of smile in his voice when he answered, _“Sure. Saturday at 3 PM. Where in Star?”_

“Central,” Oliver corrected him. “No need to trouble yourself this time.”

 Barry was totally grinning now. _“CC Jitters.”_

* * *

It became a regular occurrence.

Oliver initially thought it would end on their first meet up, initially intending it as thanks. But every time it would lead to scheduling the next one. Or if one would be unavailable for that date, they easily rescheduled things that would suit both their timetable.

Not that he was complaining.

Although as for their current status, Oliver didn’t know what to put.

Barry was a stranger first that became an acquaintance, and then became his fast friend (no-pun intended, as he would say later on). He kept learning something new about him starting from the most trivial things such as favorite color ( _red_ ) and favorite food— _foods_ to be exact. When they once tried an eat-all-you-can buffet, Oliver was startled at the mountain of dishes Barry could finish and still managing to be lean.

“Fast metabolism, remember?” Barry would say in return every single time.

He wondered if they were already at the point of being close friends when Barry would occasionally share childhood stories. Oliver would change the topic himself whenever it would get close to the topic of his father’s crime. In return, Barry would courteously not pry on his missing five years in Lian Yu.

Sometimes, they would talk about Barry’s best friend and foster sister, Iris West-Thawne. She has been his first love since childhood, one of his pillars until he grew into an adult. She and Joe, his foster father, were the kindest to him and his incarcerated father. It was hard growing up but he survived with his second family. Barry mentioned that Iris’ husband was a detective, partner of her father whom her feelings developed during the nine-month coma Barry had been.

Oliver never asked about the comatose, albeit his curiosity, that Barry would put it jokingly as his ‘hibernation’ after being struck by lightning. The older man was secretly fascinated, to be honest. Lightning struck rarely, and it was only a single outcome for the victim. He wondered what he could be doing at the moment if Barry didn’t have the strength of willingness to live way back then.

“Tell me about her. Felicity, isn’t she? What is she like?”

He shared how he saw her—compassionate and unintentionally funny when she was blabbering. She was the most different of all the women he dated. Barry laughed softly when Oliver added that the two would surely get along as they both strike him as _nerds_.

It was on another weekend when Barry told him about Iris’s cheat list.

“You’re included to hers. Though I don’t know if it’s effective still now that they’re married.”

“Hmm. I wonder why she listed Oliver Queen. That guy is no good.”

“Well, seeing as I know him personally, I beg to differ,” Barry said in a sing-song voice. “He’s a pretty nice guy. Totally not like what the rumors said. So I can’t blame her.”

Oliver turned to him fully. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course.” Barry nudged him with an elbow. “What do you say to Japanese tea house next week?”

 

 

Thea never asked him where he spent his weekend afternoons but he could tell her interest was piqued.

It was his teammates who asked him first one uneventful late afternoon at the headquarters. They might have caught him fondly shaking his head at the text Barry had sent him.

“You’re smiling,” Felicity pointed out, earning Diggle and Roy's attention.

“I’m not.”

“He always is whenever his phone chimes,” Roy mumbled under his breath, sharpening a throwing knife.

“Roy is right,” Diggle confirmed, shrugging. “Nothing new.”

In his defense, it was a really good science joke that he easily got. Whatever, he didn’t have to explain to them.

 

 

“Are you dating someone?” Thea asked the evening of the same day.

“No,” Oliver replied, not looking away from his phone, texting Barry back.

She seemed unimpressed.

He sighed. “I’m not dating Barry. He’s a good friend of mine. And a nice person.”

Thea mentally noted that her normally distrustful brother actually called someone 'nice' who wasn’t an acquaintance for years. “Barry, huh? So he's the one you go out with every week.”

“You probably know him.” She remembered Barry when he brought to her a wasted Oliver.

“Good thing it isn’t a hassle dating someone another city away.”

“We’re not dating,” he said with exasperation on edge. “We simply get coffee and take walks. Sometimes in Central or sometimes here. Occasionally, we eat dinner together. You do that with close friends.”

“Was that what you did with Tommy too? Have some after-date strolling and romantic dinners?”

“Well, no. And they’re not rom—”

“And dinner is more… intimate. You of all people know this! You only invite a person for dinner if you want to have some steamy time after.”

Oliver stared at her, her logic processing on his mind.

Who would have thought that his little sister would be the one to lecture him on dating?

Thea crossed her arms. “You’re hopeless.”

* * *

As it turned out, their meetings began to feel like dates.

Maybe it was because of what Thea said. Or it might also be of the absentminded touches on the arm or elbow, of the walking side-by-side in closer quarters, of the playful exchange of teasing bordering flirting. And the fact that Oliver felt comfortable to be himself with this person.

Barry was like a best friend, but not exactly with the growing attraction Oliver has for him. It didn’t matter anymore if the feeling was even mutual.

He wondered what was holding him back to formally ask him out in the first place. It would be easier to admire Barry then when his intentions were known. Oliver wouldn’t have to observe him surreptitiously and take his eyes away when they lingered longer than usual on the way Barry’s face would lit up when listening to him, or how his cheekbones would rise while smiling.

Yeah. He should really ask him out.

 

 

Oliver didn’t.

He hadn’t managed to get to that point when he received a call from the Foundry about an ongoing crime. The location was closer to Central but Star City nonetheless. There was a huge chance of both CCPD and SCPD would send response to the area and debate on whose jurisdiction it would fall in.

But the Green Arrow could care less—as long as it was in Star City, no matter how small a piece of land, it would be in his territory and under his protection.

He excused himself to Barry under the pretense of a sudden issue at the workplace. The latter understood, saying he would have to go to the precinct too about a breakthrough in a case he was investigating.

While parting ways, Oliver was pondering whether the Green Arrow would cross paths with CSI Barry Allen.

 

 

He was right. They did cross paths.

Him as the Green Arrow but Barry not as CSI.

Before Oliver could put his arrows on the hostage takers, there was a blur of yellow lightning that swept them off their feet, literally, and bounded them each for the police like gift-wrapped early Christmas presents.

He landed near the Flash, as what Central City called the speedster, after the high school students were released to the school yard to wait for the police.

The speedster seemed to have recognized him. The Flash stood straighter as Oliver approached him with some lectures in mind on how he could have handled it himself and _what are you doing in Star City?_

Instead he was taken aback on how green the eyes that met him and the complimentary grin that he received—both reminding him strongly of Barry.

“We haven’t met before, but I've heard about you.” The Flash extended a hand. “Flash.”

Hearing the Flash's natural voice, Oliver thought that there was no way he wouldn’t recognize it.

“Barry?”

The Flash froze, eyes widening. “How did you—” There were voices on his earpiece that Oliver couldn’t hear properly, but he guessed it was the rest of Team Flash hearing the exchange and panicking.

Oliver made a decision to turn off his voice modulator and remove the hood. He might be giving away his identity too easily, but so far his gut instinct hasn’t set off yet to warn him that this would be a very bad idea.

He heard Barry gasped at seeing him. “Oliver?”

“It’s me.”

When police sirens came nearer, Oliver was left with no choice but to leave the scene and return to the headquarters.

Barry didn’t follow him.

 

 

Oliver realized that it would explain Barry suddenly leaving at times when his phone would beep a special kind of ringtone.

And for somebody who claimed he was late on almost everything, he was on always time.

* * *

Oliver thought things between them would change for the worst when he received no text messages of any kind (even a simple greeting) for the whole week.

He did try to go to the place they were supposed to be on Sunday. It was as if a weight was lifted when he saw Barry was already there and looking apologetic.

Barry said that he mentioned to his team that he knew the Green Arrow and was friends with the man underneath. He assured him that he never revealed Oliver’s identity. The thing was, they were not fan of the ways of the Green Arrow, especially his foster father.

“How about you? I suppose you don’t approve of the vigilante too.”

The former shook his head, looking sheepish. “I’m a fan, you know? Since before I became a vigilante to my own city. Sure, I may have qualms about your methods at first. But you changed. That’s all that matters to me.”

Oliver smiled wryly. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is, Oliver.”

“Not really. We’re both different, you and I, that I don’t know where to begin.”

“Of course we are. You’re the Green Arrow and I’m the Flash. I’m a meta and you’re human with these kick-ass abilities.” Oliver frowned at his words. “All I’m saying is that we’re both heroes of our cities.” Oliver looked as if he has a lot to say to that. Barry slumped to his seat. “When I first got this speed, I don’t know who to go to. You served as my inspiration, even until now. There were times when I’m looking for someone who understands what it feels like when you just couldn’t save somebody after trying so hard. And when the situation calls for it that you’re conflicted with your morals. The team is my family but they will never know what is it like.”

Oliver knew fully well what Barry was talking about. He had been on similar scenarios. “But unlike you, I’m not a hero. Just a man who takes justice to his own hands and brings it to those who deserve it. I’ve killed people.”

Barry smiled wanly, aware of what Oliver meant. “You are to me. A hero, I mean. They could say what they want, and you might be the worst killer out there for all I care. But I’m a mature adult who can decide for himself who he wants to be part of his life.” He opened his palm to Oliver and offered it for the third time since the beginning. “So, partners?”

Oliver made peace long ago at the thought of never having a complete acceptance of someone after everything that happened. And once again, he was proven wrong.

By Barry.

He accepted the hand, internally grateful. He gained a loyal friend that he could trust and count on. He found out that it was pleasant to feel accepted even if it was just by a number of people he could count on his fingers in one hand.

When Barry gently squeezed his hand, Oliver felt that he was beginning to slowly slide on that slippery slope of attraction.

He was bound to fall in that dangerous pit of feelings he closely guarded.

* * *

With their secret double life out of the way, Oliver saw Barry almost every night.

At Star City.

When he asked him why he was at Star and speeding around the whole city during the vigilante's night patrols, Barry would merely say he has free time to kill and _figured you could use my help_.

Well, it was a rather large city.

One of the things he learned was that the younger man was stubborn and wouldn’t let Oliver be.

With a modulated voice, he would simply instruct Barry to take the other half and the other would be his to go around to. The job was faster that way, though sometimes Oliver couldn’t help but think why Barry wasn’t doing the same to Central.

He told him he already did and pointed out that it wasn’t as if he couldn’t go there instantly. It sounded cocky but it was true anyway therefore Oliver couldn’t really complain.

Besides, he got random challenges from Barry too—from hitting fast moving target to sparring with a speedster. Oliver insisted for the other to learn basic close quarter combat (for emergency situations where Barry’s speed would be unavailable, which the latter believed impossible to happen), offering his assistance to train him during convenient schedules.

Barry was enthusiastic at it in the beginning (when he firmly believed he could hand Oliver his ass) until an arrow was shot to his back once.

And then twice.

And then thrice.

And then many more.

Oliver took advantage of Barry’s fast healing, much to the speedster’s regret.

By the time Barry’s wounds healed, he was huffing in annoyance at him.

Oliver might have softened at that bummed face, but on days such as these he was a stern teacher first and foremost.

“Again!”

 

 

The good thing was he could see results and improvements from their training sessions.

And when he deemed Barry deserving of a reward, he treats him to at least three buffets so the speedster could replenish his energy.

Who said he couldn’t be fair?

Though at the back of his mind, he knew it was a lure for Barry to never stop coming around to 'spar'.

Because who the hell designed that tight fitting red Flash suit anyway?

* * *

For a year, they flitted around each other. Never coming too close or far away. Oliver was thinking that Barry might be considering this a sort of game, waiting for him to give up first.

Oliver’s pride held him back, despite the fact that he was on the verge of asking Barry out several months ago before knowing their hidden identities.

He would think that maybe the case was far serious; Barry considering him a valuable ally and technically co-leader of the merged Team Flash and Team Arrow (two teams that hit off the moment they worked together in a case) that he refused to step over the boundary of camaraderie.

“Guys like us don’t get the girls,” he said once.

But more frustrating was that they couldn’t get each other.

* * *

Until Oliver was hit by an epiphany the day Barry texted him about being in the hospital at the moment and couldn’t go on their scheduled meeting.

There should be no reason for concern, but he was irrationally panicking nonetheless. He wondered if something happened—a mission gone horribly wrong that Caitlin wasn’t enough to patch him up, and many more terrible what-ifs playing in his mind.

He got to the hospital and was flooded with relief when he immediately saw Barry standing outside the emergency room. Seeing him anxious, Oliver hoped it wasn’t somebody from the team or a family member.

The speedster was surprised when he found him a few feet away and looking as if Oliver ran all the way from Star to Central City.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Just haven’t heard from Joe and Eddie yet from inside.”

“What happened?”

Barry’s worry was suddenly replaced with an excited beam. “I’m going to be an uncle today. I’m both nervous and excited. I can only imagine what Eddie’s feeling right now.”

 _Oh._ “That’s…”  Iris on labor was the last thing Oliver anticipated. “I’m happy for you,” he said sincerely.

“Do you think it’ll be a boy?”

“I think it’ll be a girl.” Oliver humored him to keep Barry’s anxiety at bay. “But I’m sure they’ll be spoiled rotten either way by you.”

“You’re right.” Barry chuckled.

Joe was the one to go out to bring the news to Barry. The detective noticed Oliver to whom he nodded briefly.

“It’s a girl,” he heard Joe said almost breathless, eyes tearing up in joy.

Oliver decided to give the two some private time alone. He lingered near the entrance, watching the bustling activities in the hospital and getting lost in the noise and smell of antiseptic.

Barry held his arm, shaking Oliver out of his reverie. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So, uh, want to go out for a bit? The doctor said it’ll be another hour or two for visitors to be allowed.”

Oliver kept Barry’s arm and hooked it on the crook of his elbow. “We should get her flowers and fruits.” He added, “And at least wait until you see your niece before you do baby shopping spree.”

Barry smacked him lightly, puffing his cheeks.

 

 

He was introduced to Iris and her husband, Eddie, when they were finally allowed inside. He was awkwardly standing by the door as Iris pulled her foster brother towards the bed and said something to him in a hushed voice that Oliver could only caught bits of _Is that Oliver Queen?_ and _Oh my god, I’m not hallucinating at too much blood loss, right?_

Joe was with the nurse when the baby was brought in from the nursery and was settled beside Iris. The infant has her mother’s olive skin and strands of hair the color of her father’s. Eddie held the baby first and then to Joe while Iris and Barry go over the list of names Iris has.

By the time Barry was the one holding her in his arms, she was named Francine, in memory of Joe’s late wife and Iris’ mother.

“Hello, Francine,” Barry addressed the baby, gingerly cradling her. “Welcome to the world.”

Oliver watched from the sidelines as the speedster cooed at Francine, all the while thinking that Barry looked natural with a baby. He was looking at his niece as if he was ready to give the world to her already. And if he was this being an uncle alone, what more a father?

He was captivated at the sight of Barry leaning down to place a soft kiss on the girl’s head and humming to her, clearly in-love with the small bundle of joy he was holding. Oliver’s mind unconsciously ran an imagination of a scenario of the future, of coming home to the same sight of Barry softly singing a lullaby to his own child.  

_Ours._

While the wondrous scenario played out in his head, Oliver consequently found himself falling in-love too.

* * *

By the end of the following year, Roy proposed to Thea.

She said yes.

The wedding was scheduled for February and on St. Valentine’s Day because trust Roy to be a secretly romantic. No wonder Thea was enamored.

His little sister.

His little sister would be married in a few months to a man who was treating her as his whole world and that alone was enough reason for Oliver to give her hand to Roy. Their parents might no longer be around to witness her in white wedding dress but he knew they were happy for her and for the family she would make with her husband.

When the months flew by and he was finally walking at the aisle with Thea in tow, Oliver felt left out at the fast pace of everything.

 _You’re getting old_ , as what the Barry Allen of his mind would tease him.

He agreed that he probably was.

Looking at direction where he knew Barry was situated along with the invited Team Flash and Team Arrow, Oliver got a pair of thumbs up and instructions to smile more as the speedster gestured mildly at the cameras.

His lips twitched, amused that after the past years, Barry never failed to put a smile on his face.

 

 

With his hands on Barry’s and the other on the latter’s waist as they shared a slow dance, Oliver realized he wasn’t actually left out by how fast life moves past him. He was just on a standstill where his next step would be a major turning point of things.

If there was a new direction he was about to take, he wanted to bring Barry with him there.

And so Oliver Queen kissed Barry Allen.

* * *

They were both again in a wedding two and a half years later.

Although this time not as best men, nor part of the guests.

But as grooms of each other.

Exchanging vows with this amazing person and slipping a gold band on his finger, Oliver thinks that everything—the good, the bad—happened to build him for this important moment.

The whole nature of their relationship is like a fictional movie since the beginning—from their first meeting up to the development.

The only difference is that they’re far from the ending.

“I do,” Barry answered breathlessly.  

It’s just the beginning of a new chapter.

* * *

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> danke


End file.
